


morning comes too soon

by emlof



Category: Naruto
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, kakashi "bad at pillow talk" hatake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 12:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18716836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emlof/pseuds/emlof
Summary: Kakashi doesn’t say anything, just runs his fingers through Tenzō’s hair, soft and gentle.“It’s long,” he says, breath warm against Tenzō’s shoulder. “When did it get so long, Tenzō?”An abrupt change of subject. Tenzō smiles, doesn’t answer. He doesn’t remember making a conscious decision to grow it out – but here it is, long enough to skim across his shoulders. Long enough for Kakashi to run his hands through, near-reverent.





	morning comes too soon

“I wish I could send somebody other than you,” Kakashi says with a frown, propping himself up on his elbow, the movement sending a burst of cold air under the sheets. Tenzō tries not to sigh as he stares at the ceiling – of course, they’re having this conversation now.

“It’s alright,” he says, “I’d be a little offended if you pulled me from the A-rank roster. And you can’t have the council accusing you of favoritism.”

Kakashi’s frown morphs into something closer to a pout. 

“But you _are_ my favorite,” he whines into Tenzō’s shoulder. Tenzō smiles at him, fond despite his poor timing.

“Oh, that’s a relief. I do worry, you know,” he says, and Kakashi just huffs at him. “What’s got you so concerned, anyways? Our missions have always been dangerous.” 

Kakashi hesitates, thinking. 

“It was easier when I didn’t – _know_ so much. Being Hokage – I know all dangers and the odds of success and every way it could go wrong, in excruciating detail — and still, I can’t do anything beyond sending the best people. The Hokage has to just. Wait. Just like anyone else.”

Tenzō hums, loops his fingers with Kakashi’s and pulls it up to where he can press his lips to the back of his hand. 

“I’ll be careful. I wouldn’t want to disappoint the Hokage, after all,” he murmurs, rolling to his side and bringing up a hand to smooth Kakashi’s furrowed brow, just barely visible in the pre-dawn light. “You shouldn’t frown so much, you’ll get wrinkles.”

Kakashi doesn’t say anything to that, just ducks his head.

It’s quiet, for a moment. The sun hasn’t quite made it over the horizon yet; most of the village is still asleep. Tenzō can hear the faint call of a mourning dove, echoing lonely through the calm.

“Really, though.” Kakashi breaks the silence, lifting his head to make eye contact. He looks serious, tired. “Come back safe. I’ll be very upset with you if you get hurt.” 

Kakashi’s gaze, intensely focused on him, makes Tenzō blush; he tilts his head into Kakashi’s chest.

“Yeah,” he says, voice muffled from where he’s talking into Kakashi’s skin. It’s not a promise he can make, and they both know that. He makes it anyways. “I will.” 

Kakashi doesn’t say anything, just runs his fingers through Tenzō’s hair, soft and gentle. 

“It’s long,” he says, breath warm against Tenzō’s shoulder. “When did it get so long, Tenzō?”

An abrupt change of subject. Tenzō smiles, doesn’t answer. He doesn’t remember making a conscious decision to grow it out – but here it is, long enough to skim across his shoulders. Long enough for Kakashi to run his hands through, near-reverent.

The contact sparks his memory – reminds him of a ritual of sorts from their ANBU days. 

“It’ll get in your way,” Kakashi would mutter before each mission, running his fingers through Tenzō’s hair in dismay. After they’d checked all their supplies once, twice, three times, he’d pat his bunk and Tenzō would obediently crawl up in front of him, leaning back just barely in front Kakashi’s knees, any faint, supportive touch electric as Kakashi brushed out his hair and braided it, tight and elegant and easy to fit behind the mask. 

It had been a comfort for both of them, Tenzō suspects, although they never spoke of it – he, at least, cherished the brief moments of being cared for. He’d hoped it meant something to Kakashi, too, served as some reminder that he could protect people, that he could be gentle. 

After Kakashi left, he’d felt the absence most keenly in the moments just before a mission, when he hastily braided his own hair in the community bathrooms, messy and loose, or when he left it down, let it get caught in his mask in a momentary act of resentment that always left him feeling childish.

Kakashi’s hands are still tangled in his hair when he comes back to the present.

“Would you—“ Tenzō starts, so soft it’s almost inaudible. He thinks better of his nostalgic request too late; the words are already out, hovering in the air. He closes his eyes and hopes, for just a moment, that Kakashi hasn’t heard. 

He has, of course. 

“What is it?” he asks, “Would I..?”

“Never mind,” Tenzō can feel Kakashi’s eyes on him, is sure Kakashi can see the way the heat rises on his face despite the dim light. “It’s not important.”

“Sure it is.” Kakashi starts. When Tenzō shakes his head, Kakashi’s voice turns to a teasing sort of whine. “Tenzō. What is it?”

Tenzō’s sure his face is on fire when he opens his mouth, looking away so he doesn’t have to see Kakashi’s reaction. “Would you. Uh. Braid my hair? Like you used to.” 

Kakashi doesn’t say anything, and Tenzō immediately regrets opening his mouth. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I can do it myself but I thought—I just. I thought it might be… nice,” he finishes lamely, cringing at the way the words hang there, awkward in the silence. 

When he looks back, Kakashi’s smiling, eyes soft. “You’re right, Tenzō. That would be nice. I’d like to, if you’ll let me.”

Tenzō can feel his eyes widen, gives an embarrassed nod.

Kakashi shifts to sit with his back against the wall and pats the spot in front of him as if no time has passed at all, and Tenzō sits, leans back against Kakashi’s knees in a way he never would have dared before. 

Kakashi’s hands are slow and careful as they comb through his hair, working out the tangles. Tenzō gets lost in the rhythm of it, finds himself dozing off as Kakashi works, fingers touching lightly against his scalp as he starts the braid.

It’s a far cry from how it had been when they were young, when Tenzō would sit ramrod straight so as not to accidentally lean back against Kakashi’s legs. Contact had felt dangerous, then, forbidden – the idea of leaning back, closing the fraction of space between them – unthinkable. 

Things are different, now. He’s not sitting in the dark on some rickety bunk in the ANBU barracks, awkward and anxious, but in their shared bed, soft and warm as the light of dawn just barely starts to filter in through the curtains. 

There’s a slight tug with each new segment of hair brought into the braid, but Kakashi’s hands are gentle – so gentle, so careful even with Tenzō, whose body has been hardened after years of training and fights, he doesn’t need to be treated with such care – it’s almost overwhelming. 

Tenzō doesn’t realize Kakashi has tied off the braid until he feels lips pressed to the back of his neck.

“Done,” Kakashi murmurs, breath ghosting across Tenzō’s ear as he pulls Tenzō backwards to lean against his chest.

“Thank you,” Tenzō says, still a little self-conscious. Kakashi just hums; Tenzō can feel the way the sound vibrates against his skin. 

Kakashi rests his chin on Tenzō’s shoulder, hair ticklish where it brushes against his jaw. “I still don’t like it. Just for the record.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” Tenzō says, twining their fingers together, Kakashi’s hands small in his. “Being Hokage is dangerous, too, you know. You could be assassinated. Maybe I won’t let you out of my sight when I get back, how would you like that?” 

“I think I’d like that just fine,” Kakashi says, and Tenzō rolls his eyes. 

“No, you wouldn’t,” he says, “and besides, I’ve heard enough griping at rotation assignments to know you’re terrible to guard.” 

Kakashi doesn’t have any response to that, just a quiet laugh that lapses into silence.

Tenzō doesn’t know how long they sit like that, only that eventually Konoha isn’t as silent as it had been, and there’s enough light streaming into the room to see properly. He’ll have to leave soon, if he’s going to meet the rest of the team in time; the thought makes him sigh. 

“I have to go, Kakashi,” he says reluctantly. Kakashi doesn’t budge. He squirms in Kakashi’s grasp, and Kakashi huffs at him. 

“Hey—be careful, you’ll mess up the braid,” Kakashi protests, finally letting go and muttering something about a lack of respect.

Tenzō ignores him, padding out of the room to put a pot of coffee on. 

Kakashi rejoins him in the bathroom as he’s brushing his teeth, neck craned as he tries to look at the braid in the mirror.

“You used to be better at this,” Tenzō says, one skeptical eyebrow raised as he finally catches a glimpse of Kakashi’s handiwork.

“I used to have more practice,” Kakashi says with a wry smile. “I suppose I’ll get better at it again, now.” 

Tenzō pauses – he hadn’t been expecting this to become a routine again, is half-surprised that Kakashi would offer. The thought keeps a smile on his face as he presses a quick kiss against Kakashi’s temple before fixing his mask over his face. 

Kakashi catches his hand as he turns to go. 

“I’ll see you soon, mm?” he asks, and his tone is casual even if his question isn’t. 

“Yeah,” Tenzō says, “I’ll be back before you know it.” 

There’s a brief pressure, his hand being squeezed once, tight. The heat lingers, a sort of phantom touch he can still feel when he meets the rest of his team at the gate.

 

(“Captain Yamato,” Sakura says when they finally stop for the night and can remove their masks, “your hair is a mess, it’s falling out all over the place.”

“I know.” He grins, a little sheepish, scratches the back of his head. It only makes things worse. She tries to keep a straight face as an entire segment works its way loose from the elastic.

“Do you want me to redo it for you?” He looks a little surprised at that, as if he didn’t expect the offer. 

“That’s alright,” he says, “I don’t mind it so much.” 

“Alright,” she says, corners of her mouth quirking upwards, “but don’t expect my help when it’s all knotted.”

He smiles, eyes soft in the firelight, and Sakura gets the sense that his thoughts are suddenly very far away. “Thanks, Sakura. But I think we’ll manage.”)

**Author's Note:**

> another lil twitter prompt (thanks rachel!), this time for kkyam + braiding~
> 
> you can find me on twitter @eemlof!
> 
> title is from "too soon" by the sweet water warblers


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